She frowned. “But now they’re back.”
“I’ve been trying to find Lucas’s killer. I thought, if I let them have a bit of territory, I could flush him out.”
“Oh, Rogan.”
She hugged him tight. “I get it and I’m really sorry about your friend.”
He held her, letting her soothe some of his pain. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms and he held on, wondering what he’d done to deserve this.
To deserve her.
Chapter Six
“Hi, what can I get for you?” Miller stared down at the worn-looking man studying the menu. He might have been handsome if not for his scowl.
“Just coffee. Black.”
“No problem. Be right back.”
Something about him set off her spidey senses, but she couldn’t figure it out. As she turned away, she spotted Cillian gesturing at her.
She preferred having Colm watching her, but Rogan had decided Sofia was too much of a distraction for the other man. She’d argued with him, but this was one area he wouldn’t compromise on, damn him.
“What?” she asked.
“The guy you just took an order from? He’s a cop.”
“Really?” Maybe that’s what her senses had been telling her.
“Yeah. And he’s been trying to get something on Rogan for months. So stay away from him.”
“I’m getting him coffee, Cillian. We’re not becoming best buddies.”
“Get him the coffee then stay away from him.”
With a sigh of disgust, she moved away. Cillian was the most cynical man she’d ever met. If she hadn’t seen him with his son, Tex, she wouldn’t have believed he was capable of smiling. But he turned into a completely different person around Tex.
She grabbed the coffee pot and moved back to the cop. He smiled at her as she poured him a drink.
“Thanks.”
She didn’t know what Cillian was worrying about. The guy seemed nice enough. She served a few more customers before returning to fill his cup.
“That guy over there is watching you pretty closely.” He nodded at Cillian. “He bothering you?”
“Oh no. He’s a friend.”
“He’s one of Rogan MacGuire’s men. He’s not a safe person to be friends with.”
“I’m fine.” She gave him a tight smile.
“I know you’re living with MacGuire. You don’t know who he is.”
She stiffened. No way would she stand here and listen to someone talk shit about Rogan. “You have no idea what I know.”
“If you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t go anywhere near him. But maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Maybe you know exactly what he is. Like father, like daughter.”
“I’m going to get one of the other waitresses to serve you.”
“Wait. Just listen to me.” He grabbed her hand as she turned away.
She glanced over at Cillian who was quickly making his way over.
“You could help me put him away. You could do some good. Make up for everything your father has done.”
“Let her go, Maran. Now.” Cillian glared down at him.
Maran released her, standing. Cillian stepped closer, and the tension between them increased.
“Both of you calm down. This is a restaurant, not a boxing ring.” She turned to Maran. “I think you’d better leave.”
“I haven’t finished my coffee.”
She picked it up. “Yes. You have.”
The detective pulled out a card and placed it on the table. “Think about it.”
Sofia walked up to her as the cop left. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Guess so.”
“Aleksandr wants to see you.” Sofia glanced at Cillian. “Both of you.”
“Like I could leave him behind.” Miller pointed at Cillian. “He follows me to the bathroom.”
They walked into Aleksandr’s office. The leader of the Russian Mob had never treated her with anything but courtesy.
She still thought he was a scary bastard.
Aleksandr looked up at her then turned his gaze to Sofia, his eyes narrowing with concern. Sofia looked like crap. There were dark circles under her eyes and her face was drawn, pale. She’d been this way since the night in the alley.
“Sofia, go home.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Go home.”
Sofia lifted her chin. Jesus, Miller wouldn’t dare argue with Anisimov. He was not a man to be messed with. Although most people probably thought the same thing about Rogan.
But they didn’t know him like she did.
“We’re short staffed. I’m fine.”
Aleksandr sighed and muttered under his breath before addressing Miller. “How are you?”
“Umm, fine.” In the three weeks following the attack, Aleksandr asked that question regularly. He seemed to take her attack personally. Security had increased threefold. It was kind of overkill, but she wouldn’t tell him how to run his place.
“Good. And no one has been bothering you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, nothing like that will happen again. Anyone bothers you, I want you to tell me.”
She nodded. “I will.”
His gaze moved to Cillian then back to her. “What did Detective Maran want?”
“He wanted me to give him information on Rogan. I told him where to go.”
Anisimov nodded. “I can’t keep him from coming in here. But you let me know if he becomes a problem.”
“All right.”
“You can all go now.”
Dismissed, they turned and left. Cillian pulled out his cell and started texting. She guessed he was letting Rogan know what happened. He wouldn’t be happy, but there wasn’t much he could do. Maran had every right to be here, and it was her job to serve him.
She didn’t know exactly where things were going with them, but she didn’t want to examine it too much. The last thing she wanted was to drive him away.
***
Rogan seethed. How dare Maran approach her. He had no concerns about Miller turning information on him. For one, she knew nothing. He intended to keep her as protected from the dark side of his life as possible. It might not work for other people, but this was the way it had to be between them.
At least, Miller knew exactly who he was. She hadn’t once pressured him about where he was going or what he was doing. She’d accepted there were things he couldn’t tell her.
Even if Miller did know anything, she would never turn on him. But, as far as Rogan was concerned, women and children were off-limits.
Maybe it was time to have a little chat with the detective.
A door opened and laughter drifted down the hall.
Miller was home. Immediately, he felt lighter. More at ease. He moved out of his study, towards that laughter.
Being together might put them both at risk, but he knew he was nothing without her. He would find a way to keep her safe without trampling on her sense of independence.
He had to.
“Boss.” Cillian nodded then made himself scarce.
“Hey, you.” Miller wrapped her arms around him. The easy way she gave affection wasn’t something he was used to.
But he sure wasn’t complaining.
“You look tired. Headache?” he asked.
She should be cutting her hours, but she claimed Sofia needed the help until she found someone else. He was close to stepping in and intervening.
“A little bit.”
“Have you had dinner?”
“Yeah, I ate at the restaurant.”
“Let’s go upstairs, then. I’ll give you a massage.”
“Ooh, that sounds perfect.”
He swung her up into his arms. She hit his shoulder lightly. “What are you doing, Rogan?”
“Sweeping you off your feet.”
“Putting your back out is more like it.”
“The day your slight weight is too much for m
e is the day I head to the old people’s home.”
He threw her down on the bed then slowly stripped, loving the way she watched his every movement, her gaze enthralled. He left his boxers on then moved over to her.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, tugging at his shorts.
“Not yet. I promised you a massage first.”
“I’d be willing to forget about that.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been working hard. You deserve a bit of pampering.”
“And what about you? You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve some pampering, too.”
Him? He could look after himself.
But when was the last time someone had actually shown concern for him?
Miller sat up. “Here, why don’t you lie down?” She tugged his hand, pushing him until he sat. “I’ll go find some massage oil. Lie down on your stomach.”
She disappeared before he could argue. He watched on in bemusement as she moved back into the bedroom, oil in one hand and a towel in the other.
“Why aren’t you on your belly?” she asked, placing the oil on the bedside table.
“Maybe because I was supposed to be giving you a massage?” he asked dryly.
She made a shooing movement with her hands. “Lie down. Let me do this for you. You’ve done so much for me.”
“I’m going to say this for the last time, Miller. You owe me nothing.”
“Let me look after you, Rogan. You’re always looking after everyone around you. It’s time someone else took care of you.”
“Don’t pretend I’m someone good, Miller. I’m not.”
“You’re also not the devil in Versace.”
“Prada,” he told her.
“You don’t wear Prada.”
He rolled onto his stomach with a grin. She liked to see the good in him, but it wasn’t there. He didn’t spend his time looking after everyone around him.
Ridiculous.
He moaned with enjoyment as she worked on the muscles of his back.
“You’re tense,” she told him.
“And you have magic hands.”
“I do, huh? That’s good to know.”
She moved her way down his back. Honest to God, he hadn’t felt this relaxed in, well, he couldn’t remember since when.
Miller tugged his boxers down and rubbed his ass, squeezing gently. His cock stiffened as arousal flooded his body.
“Roll onto your back,” she told him in a husky voice.
He complied, watching her. “You know there’s one way you could improve on your technique.”
Miller threw her leg over his hips as she massaged his chest. “Oh yeah?”
“If you were naked.”
Her eyes danced. Damn, she was beautiful.
“I think I can manage that.” She stripped off her white T-shirt, revealing the plain, cotton bra underneath.
He needed to get her some sexy underwear. Lace and silk.
She wouldn’t spend his money on herself, but there was no reason he couldn’t buy her what he wanted.
Rogan reached up and undid the top of her pants. She moved away, stripping quickly, a light blush on her cheeks.
“Better?” she asked.
“Perfect.”
“Will you strip as well?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he told her with a grin, slipping his boxers off. He placed his hands behind his head. “Now, where were we?”
Miller started at his shoulders again and worked her way down. She brushed up against his firm cock, making him grit his teeth.
This had become an exercise in self-control, her breasts swaying above him, her body warm next to his. Leaning in, she kissed both of his nipples.
“Jesus, a thaisce. You’re killing me here,” he muttered as she kissed her way up his neck. The feel of her lips on his skin sent waves of arousal through his blood.
“I love touching you. Your skin is so smooth, but with powerful muscle beneath.” She slid down his body until her face drew level with his dick.
She slid her tongue out, running it up the length of his hard cock.
“You sure, Miller?” he asked.
“I’ve been dying to taste you. Lie back and enjoy. Let me take control, okay?”
He thought he could manage that. Her lips wrapped around his cock was probably the only taste of heaven he’d ever get.
She lightly licked him, like he was a cool ice block on a hot summer day. She took the tip of him into her mouth, teasing him.
“Miller,” he growled.
“What?” She stared up at him, her face all innocence. But humor lit her gaze.
“No teasing, minx. Remember, it’s my turn next.”
“Good point.” She took as much of him as she could into her mouth, sucking strongly.
Holy shit.
He had to hold still, stop himself from taking control. A big ask for a man used to controlling everything in his life.
But, for her, he would do almost anything.
Gently, she cupped his balls, playing with them. Rogan clenched his teeth again, fighting the need to come. He had to last longer than this. He had to savor the feel of her mouth around him.
“I’m going to come,” he warned. He should be able to control himself, but this was Miller.
His Miller.
She moved faster, harder until he exploded into her mouth, his shout filling the room. Panting, he lay there, his head spinning as she gave him one final lick.
She lay on top of him, a grin on her face.
He rolled, drawing her beneath him.
“My turn.”
Miller watched in a daze as Rogan moved over her body. She breathed out a soft sigh filled with longing. He could be so intense, so serious. But when it was just the two of them and all his focus and intensity was aimed at her, she kind of melted. There was no other word for it. He made her feel like she was the most important thing in his world.
“I may not always show it or say it, but you are so important to me, Miller. When I leave you, I switch my focus onto everything else. But it’s only because to get distracted could get me killed. And, now, more than ever, I have a reason to live. A reason to come home.”
She cupped his face between her hands. “You better damn well stay alive, hear me? I will not be happy if anything happens to you.”
“Planning on spitting on my grave?”
“Oh hell, no. I’ll dig you up, stuff you, and use you as my voodoo doll. And you know where I’d put those pins, don’t you?”
He winced as she lightly patted his balls.
“You’re a hard woman.”
She smiled fiercely. “Yep. But I’m your hard woman.”
He bit down on a nipple then lapped at it to soothe the pain. Then he moved to her other nipple, working his tongue over them, back and forth, over and over, until they were hard nubs, sensitive to even the slightest touch.
The covers twisted beneath her as she writhed on the bed, wanting more, needing to feel him inside her.
“Please, Rogan.”
“Please, what?” He laid kisses on her stomach, moving closer and closer to her pussy. She groaned in frustration as he moved away again, kissing down one thigh then switching to the other.
“I need you.”
“Where? Where do you need me?”
“Are you trying to get me to talk dirty?” she asked.
“Pussy isn’t a dirty word.” He grinned up at her. “Say it. Say pussy. I want your tongue on my pussy, Rogan.”
“I can say pussy. See? Said it right then.”
“Good, now tell me you want my tongue on your pussy. You want me to play with your clit, to make you nice and juicy.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“I need some direction. Otherwise, I might get distracted by your other attributes.” He raised her leg into the air and kissed along her butt cheek.
“Uh-uh, you stay away from there. I am so not into anything kinky.”
&nbs
p; Running his finger along the seam of her ass, he watched her carefully. “Ever tried it?”
“No. And I’m not going to now! You are not sticking anything in my ass.” But his finger created urges she hadn’t realized she had. She wondered what it would feel like to be touched there.
“I think you’re curious. Hold your legs up to your chest. I’ll get the lube.”
“Rogan, no, I—”
He turned back and gave her a gentle kiss. “Hush, you know I’d never hurt you. We’re going to experiment a little and, if you don’t like it, then we’ll forget all about it. I’ll never mention it again. But I know someone as brave as you are isn’t going to be chicken about giving it a go.”
She scowled at him. “Manipulative bastard.”
With a chuckle, he moved into the bathroom. Miller glanced around his bedroom. It was kind of bland. Very similar to her room. No personal touches. No photos on the wall or clothes strewn on the floor. Just a bed, bedside tables, and an armchair.
Wouldn’t take much to make it homier, though. A few cushions, a rug, some artwork.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asked as he slid back onto the bed. He placed a bottle of lube and a box onto the bedside table.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Then shouldn’t you be in position?”
Oh crap. Miller watched him for a moment but he stared back at her, waiting. He wanted her to open herself up to him. Miller pulled her legs up against her chest, putting her ass and pussy on full display.
“I’m not going to like this,” she warned him.
“We’ll see,” he replied, placing a dab of lube on his finger.
As he settled himself between her legs, she tensed, certain he would immediately thrust his finger inside her. Instead, he teased her clit with his tongue, playing with her until she relaxed, pleasure flooding her.
His finger teased the opening to her ass, covering it in lube.
“Easy, baby. Breathe in. Now let it out.”
Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) Page 9